A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
by Nowriting
Summary: A new football magazine has just come out and with Mamori on the front cover. The article is flattering but what's this picture of a dreamy eyed Mamori? What was she looking at? Mamori fails to prevent Hiruma from reading the follow up article. What's a girl to do? Run away and hope he doesn't follow.
1. Chapter 1

It's funny how a woman could be so strong and independent and yet such a fucking coward at the same time. Mamori slumped over on a curb by the flower bed and covered her face.

Everything was going to be ruined. Nothing would be the same. Over three years of patiently waiting for the right moment was going to be thrown out the window thanks to a _damn football tabloid_ magazine.

* * *

_One month ago._

"Don't forget the _CF Monthly_, fuckin' manager!" yelled Hiruma.

Slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, Mamori acknowledged his request with a slightly raised eyebrow as she closed the clubroom door upon her exit.

She usually bought the subscriptions to all the known football magazines but _CF Monthly_ was a new magazine that was being released this month, focusing mostly on college football. If it turned out to be a good information provider, she would subscribe to it for the club.

To her utter confusion but pleasant surprise, the very first volume of _CF Monthly _featured her prominently on the cover. "Saikyoudai's Secret Ace: Anezaki Mamori" it read in bold red print. Picking the magazine up, Mamori stared in amazement at her likeness in glossy print. It was an unusual choice for a football magazine cover.

From the shirt she was wearing in the picture, she figured out which game the photo must have been taken at. It was a practice game against Oujou University that took place almost a month ago. They had lost the game by 2 points since the Oujou University team now not only included the Golden Generation but now also had Shin, Sakuraba, and the others.

Mamori was tempted to flip through the magazine right then and there to see what they had written about her, but she knew Hiruma was probably torturing some poor souls back at the clubroom. It was best if she got back quickly in case any of the wounded needed attention. She paid for her purchases and walked as quickly as she could back. The sooner she got back, the sooner she could read the magazine.

"Guess who's on the cover of the new magazine?" she announced as she closed the clubroom door behind her. Setting her bags down, she quickly flipped through the magazine to find the titillating article.

Hiruma didn't say a word as he continued to type on his laptop. However, Agon and Ikkyu immediately gathered around her to view the magazine and everyone else paused from putting their things away and was all looking at her expectantly.

Grabbing the magazine out of her hands, Agon flipped to the cover and exclaimed in disbelief, "ANEZAKI MAMORI? What the fuck! What the actual fuck! I'M Saikyoudai's ace." He tossed the magazine angrily onto the floor. "That magazine is a piece of shit. I'm going to the gym," he yelled and slammed the door behind him.

Ikkyu picked the magazine up and read the main cover title, " 'Saikyoudai's Secret Ace: Anezaki Mamori'." He laughed and handed Mamori the magazine. "Here, M-Mamori, you read it t-to us," he stuttered, blushing slightly and unable to look her in the eyes.

Mamori flipped through the magazine eagerly until she found the main spread about herself. The article was very flattering. It talked about her intelligence, dedication to the team, diligence, and most of all, it mentioned how she was an invaluable team asset. The author justified calling her the team's secret ace by mentioning her ability to analyse plays from the bench and communicate with the team captain using their secret hand signs. Overall, she was pleased as punch about everything it had to say about her.

The magazine spread also contained more clandestine photos of her, taken during various games. The most prominent photo was a full page image of a close up of her head and shoulders at the end of the spread. The photo was of Mamori staring in a somewhat dreamy lovesick way, looking slightly to the left. There was a large caption at the bottom.

"Saikyoudai's beautiful team manager appears to be in love. What or WHOM is she looking at? Find out in next month's issue." Ikkyu read aloud in wonder.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words and Mamori's eyes widened as she saw this particular picture. She remembered exactly the moment this photo must have been taken and on what day. This particular photo was from a practice game three weeks earlier against Enma U. And she knew exactly what or rather _whom_ she had been looking at.

Mamori couldn't prevent the blush that spread across her cheeks.

"I bet she was drooling over a box of creampuffs," cackled Hiruma.

He had silently snuck up right behind her and was looking at the magazine from over her shoulder. He quickly snatched it from her hands and started flipping through it.

"I can go through it and I'll let you know if it's worth subscribing to. You don't have to waste your time, Hiruma-kun," said Mamori. She tried to take the magazine back from him.

Hiruma narrowed his eyes at her while holding the magazine above his head and entirely out of her reach. He smacked his gum, blew a bubble, and craftily replied, "That's OK, fuckin' manager. Why don't you analyse the video from the last game, I'll handle the magazine."

He immediately stuffed his prize into his own bag and loudly announced, "Practice is over for today, everyone go the fuck home. I want you all here at fuckin' 0600 tomorrow morning for morning practice." Hiruma fired a few shots at everyone to clear the room.

Mamori sighed loudly. _Would it kill him to call me Mamori, or even just "manager" and leave the "fuckin' " part out?_ She had been over this with him a hundred times before and she knew she would get nowhere. She was on a first name basis with everyone else on the team and she knew Hiruma simply enjoyed aggravating her and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Not today.

Grumbling a bit she grabbed her own bag, tossed the bag of purchased supplies at him and left.

* * *

The month passed by in a blur. Hiruma had insisted on checking out the magazine for a few more months before deciding if it was worth subscribing to.

Mamori was dreading the release of the 2nd issue and was desperately thinking of various plots to prevent anyone she knew from reading it. She couldn't afford to just buy all the available copies so that was way out of the question. She had tried to convince them the magazine was no good, but to no avail. Hiruma was adamant about buying the next issue at least.

Damn.

Mamori's floral scent blew in the open clubroom door moments before she entered with her hands full of shopping bags. She had just returned from the trip to the store for supplies and the much anticipated 2nd issue of _CF Monthly_. Most of the team was finished with practice and were just lounging around in various states of undress. Hiruma was sitting with his feet propped up on the desk, tapping away on his laptop.

"What do you know, they were sold out of _CF Monthly_," she said as she started to put away all the newly purchased supplies. She was out of ideas and had resorted to lying. "I guess we'll have to check out another store tomorrow. By the way, you should try to keep the door closed, you're wasting the air conditioner." Mamori chided as she closed the clubroom door, hoping to distract him with a petty argument as per usual.

There was no way she would get away with it for long, but it would buy her another day, at least, to come up with the courage to face it. Maybe she could use the same excuse tomorrow and maybe, eventually, everyone would forget, she desperately hoped.

Hiruma blew a bubble and stroked his gun, all the while staring at Mamori. She found various things to do to avoid looking him in the eye. He would know she was lying immediately. He might already know.

"That's ok, fuckin' manager, it's not a big deal," he said magnanimously.

It was so out of character for Hiruma to be forgiving that Mamori was instantly put on guard. He was up to something. She'd bet her favourite Rocket Bear plushy on it.

BAM! The clubroom door slammed open.

"Sorry," apologized Ikkyu in a muffled voice, "My hands were full so I had to kick the door open."

Ikkyu had several bags in his hands and one clamped between his teeth. Mamori immediately went to help him.

"I got the magazine you asked for, Hiruma," Ikkyu beamed proudly as he withdrew the _CF Monthly_ from one of the many bags.

The world stopped spinning momentarily for Mamori. Her breath hitched and her heart appeared to stop beating for a split second as, in seemingly slow motion, Hiruma closed his laptop, put it on the table, got up, and reached for the dastardly magazine.

"NO!" Mamori cried and tried to grab the magazine but Hiruma was too fast. "Please don't read it, Hiruma-kun. Please, please, please? I've never asked anything of you. Just this once, please do this for me!" she begged as he held the magazine out of her reach above her head with one hand.

The entire team stared in shock.

Picking his proverbial jaw off the floor, Hiruma continued to hold the magazine above her head while eyeing her thoughtfully. Whatever it was that the fuckin' manager didn't want him to see, it was definitely blackmail material.

In all the years he had known her, she had never lost her cool like this. She had never begged for anything. She didn't get her way only because she was pretty. Mamori was a champion haggler and could convince a blind man to give her his walking stick if she wanted.

Hiruma blew a bubble thoughtfully.

"Give me one good reason, fuckin' manager," he declared, "why don't you want us to read this magazine?"

Mamori's eyes began to tear up. She had known Hiruma Yoichi as a friend for 4 years now, 2 years at Deimon High, and 2 years in Saikyoudai University. And for more than 3 of those 4 years, she has been in love with him. Mamori didn't know when it happened or the exact moment it began, but she knew the exact moment she figured it out.

As she had watched him get tackled by Gaou-kun in their final football season at Deimon, her heart had stopped. In that moment, she knew that she cared deeply for the pointy eared demon. Over the years, simply caring for him grew into love. She secretly and privately loved him from the shadows, doing her best to support him and waiting for the right moment to confess.

This was not that moment. Mamori had often fantasized how she would confess to him, but reality was so much scarier. In her fantasies, her various confession scenarios were romantic and organized. It would never be forced and embarrassing like this.

"Please, Hiruma?" she pleaded. She was so distraught she didn't even notice that she had neglected to use an honorific with his name.

The entire team held their breath, awaiting the demon quarterback's decision. How could he say no to the beautiful pleading manager?

"No," he said with finality and proceeded to flip through the magazine.

"Nnn-," Mamori moaned and ran from the club room.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiruma quickly flipped through the magazine to find the page he wanted. There could only be one logical thing she didn't want him to see in this issue. "What or WHOM was Anezaki Mamori looking at?"

Normally, Hiruma would be cackling with sinful glee in anticipation of the delicious blackmail he was about to uncover, but for some reason, knowing that this particular piece of delectable blackmail was enough to bug the fuckin' manager to the point of tears made Hiruma feel a little uncomfortable. What exactly was this feeling? Was it guilt? Remorse? Whatever it was, Hiruma was determined to ignore it. This opportunity was too good to pass up.

In all the years he had known Anezaki Mamori, he had yet to find a tiny speck of blackmail worthy information on her. Not that he had ever needed to blackmail her for anything. She was as devoted to the team as he was. Besides, he could always bribe her with those sickly sweet cream puffs she loved so much.

Mamori was a straight A student, the good girl next door type, and the perfect manager for his team. She had never had a boyfriend and as far as his information network was concerned, she had never even held hands with a boy let alone do anything that would be embarrassing enough to be blackmail material. Hiruma felt a small stab in the vicinity of his chest at the thought of Mamori holding hands with some nameless, faceless boy who wouldn't be good enough to even wipe her shoes.

Finally finding the page he was looking for, Hiruma's eyes quickly skimmed through, stopping at various points before slowly closing the magazine and putting it down gently on the table. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table methodically.

The entire clubroom was silent as all the present members watched Hiruma anxiously. Hiruma had what could be considered a poker face. It was a very expressive face but that was all part of his plan. Hiruma would purposely look a certain way to throw his opponent off. He always had perfect control of his facial features, only showing what he chose to reveal.

This time was different. His features had unconsciously shifted from curious to disbelief as he quickly read the magazine. It then went from disbelief to wonderment as he put the issue down. Now, there was a thoughtful look on his face, a slight furrowing of his eyebrows as he considered his options.

His team mates waited with bated breath.

After what felt like an eternity to the team, Hiruma's face lit up in a diabolically evil grin that would give any child nightmares. Abruptly standing up, he walked over to Agon's locker, unlocked it and yanked it open. Using the mirror inside the door, Hiruma ran his fingers through his hair roughly and picked at his uniform. He pulled at the hem of his jersey to straighten it and began silently laughing, shoulders shaking.

Who would have thought? Anezaki Mamori. He had always thought of her as Mamori, despite calling her fuckin' manager all the time. He only did it to annoy her. He remembered the first time seeing her. They were both first years at Deimon. She had tried and failed to discipline him for something or another. The point was that she was unafraid of him. He recalled the fire in her eyes as she marched right up to him, pointed at his face and began lecturing.

Fuckin' annoying.

Her hair had been shorter then and now that he thought about it, she had always had short hair back in high school. It wasn't until university that she began growing it out. With a sudden realization, he became aware that it was all due to a careless comment he had made during their graduation ceremony. He had said something about long hair being sexier.

So she had liked him at least that long ago. Hiruma's grin grew even wider.

Not in his wildest—ok maybe in his wildest—dream had he fantasized about having Mamori as a girlfriend. The Angel and the Demon. He could think of no one who would ever have imagined it of them, except maybe fuckin' skates and fuckin' old man Musashi. But those two were crazy so who would listen to them. The fantasy of Mamori as his girlfriend had kept him up a lot more nights than he would care to admit. And deep down, he had always thought that she was too good for him.

Why would a perfect woman like her want a demon like him? He had always thought the only reason she had stayed in the football world, was because she loved the game as much as he did. He had assumed that she just enjoyed the thrill of the battle, the strategising, and the victory. It would never, never in a million years, have occurred to him that she stayed for another reason, and especially not because of him.

He had _CF Monthly_ to thank. Hiruma made a mental note to get his hands on a high resolution copy of all the photos they had of him and Mamori. He would blackmail the emperor if he had to, to get his hands on those images.

As he strode towards the exit his laughter became audibly louder. His team mates stared with mouths agape, not sure how to react, as he exited the clubroom and turned in the direction Mamori had run.

With only a moment's hesitation, the entire team abandoned whatever it was they had been in the middle of and crowded around the magazine on the table. Ikkyu had the honor of holding the issue and reading the article out loud. It wasn't a long article at all, only a paragraph long.

"_Anezaki Mamori, the secret ace of the Saiyoudai Wizards doe__s her duty as a shadow king on the sidelines of each game. From the bench, she analyzes plays with her quick thinking and signals the demon quarterback. Together they are a fearsome tag team duo, not to be taken lightly. But is duty to her team her only driving force? What makes a perfect manager? Love, dear Readers. It is her love that is the inspiration for her devotion and strength. What does she love? Whom does she love? Dear Readers, we investigated Miss Anezaki for months, analysing her role at games and studying her methods. We reviewed thousands of photographs for evidence and now, we can present to you, without a doubt, the love of Anezaki Mamori."_

Following the short paragraph were various pictures of Mamori.

Mamori smiling.

Mamori smiling indulgingly.

Mamori smiling dreamily.

Mamori smiling gently.

Mamori smiling lovingly.

At Hiruma as he huddled with the team on the field.

At Hiruma as he fired his gun wildly after a victorious game.

At Hiruma as he took a swig from his water bottle.

At Hiruma as he yelled at his team while she bandaged his knee.

At Hiruma as he ate hungrily from the bento she made.

The magazine fell out of Ikkyu's limp hands and was quickly grabbed and passed around by the various team members. Exclamations of disbelief rang out in the clubroom.

"No way!"

"Should we follow them?"

"The Angel and the Demon?"

"Who would have thought?"

"Damn, I just lost a hundred bucks to Musashi."

"Let's follow them."

"It's never going to work between them."

"She's too nice for him."

"Hey guys, let's go see what Hiruma will do!"

"NO!" shouted Ikkyu with authority. "This is a private moment for the both of them. Let them work it out without interference. Besides, you guys only want to gossip and they deserve respect. I say we all go home and hope for the best. The more I think about it, the more I feel that Musashi is right; they are perfect for each other. I'm going to hope for the best for them and cross my fingers Hiruma doesn't kill us tomorrow if things go wrong between them."

His team mates thought for a moment before everyone nodded in agreement and a few slapped him in the back for keeping a level head. Ikkyu was right. Their manager and team captain deserved their respect and the right to privacy. This was clearly a very personal matter for the both of them and the team would honor that.


	3. Chapter 3

So here she was (having cowardly run away), slumped over on a curb by the flower bed in the university's "music" garden. Mamori lamented her cruel fate and wrapped her arms around herself, burying her head into her knees. Hiruma would probably laugh in her face. She would never be able to look him in the eye again. She might even have to quit being the manager. Mamori chided herself for being overly dramatic. If anything, Hiruma would be blackmailing her to never quit as his personal manager, or rather, slave.

That's how Hiruma found her. He had known exactly where she would run to. She had loved the garden the moment he had black—I mean talked the university council into authorizing renovations for. She always came here during lunch to eat and study. Not that Hiruma had ever joined her, but he knew. The same way he knew she preferred pink peonies over red roses.

His spy network of course.

"Fuckin' manager," he began.

She clutched her arms tighter around herself.

"Fuckin' manager," he said again.

She continued to ignore him.

"Tch," he sighed. "Mamori!"

"Hiruma-kun," she answered miserably. She still wouldn't look at him, though. She was too distraught to lecture him about using her given name without permission.

"I thought we were past the honorifics?" he teased.

"Nnn..." she mumbled and let out a long sigh. "You saw it?"

Hiruma made an affirmative sound and sat down next to her. He made sure to sit close enough that his arm and legs would brush against her. This was going to be fun.

Mamori tensed but didn't pull away. After what felt like forever but was really only about ten seconds, Mamori couldn't stand it anymore. Best to get it over with, like ripping off a bandage, she thought. Slowly, Mamori lifted her head and looked straight ahead. She knew exactly what he had read, what he had seen in the magazine. She had looked at it in the store and it had cemented her resolved to hide the issue from everyone as long as she could. Which was now turning out to be not long at all.

"What are you going to do to me?" she finally asked.

"Nothing," he said slowly, staring at her profile. "Maybe everything," he continued after a slight pause.

Surprised and confused as to what he could mean, Mamori quickly looked at him before looking forward again. "What do you mean? Are you going to laugh at me now?"

Hiruma slowly turned his body to face her.

"Look at me," he commanded.

"I'd rather not," she grounded out between clenched teeth.

"Look at me," he commanded again with more authority.

"Hiruma..." she said softly.

At least she didn't use an honorific.

"What is this? You're afraid to look me in the eye?" he asked. "Is this the woman who stood up to Gaou? Remember Gaou? The guy who breaks bones like twigs? Big. Hairy. Neanderthal-looking. Is this the woman who dared to try to discipline the Demon of Deimon? Remember the Demon? Tall. Blond. Handsome. You know, the guy you're in lo—"

Before he could finish, Mamori whipped around and covered his mouth with her hand. When she realised what she had just done, she pulled her hand back and abruptly stood up with the intent to run away. Where to? She didn't know, but anywhere where she didn't have to look at that damn Hiruma. How dare he make jokes at a time like this. She was in a love crisis here. It was. Not. Funny.

Hiruma grabbed her arm and pulled. Mamori lost her balance and fell right into his arms. With a few adjustments he had her exactly where he wanted her. In his lap.

Mamori made a strangled sound. "I can't believe you're enjoying my embarrassment like this!" she managed to squeak and tried to wiggle free.

"Stop it!" he said.

When she continued to wiggle he pulled her tighter against him and slightly ground his pelvis against her backside. Mamori froze instantly.

Hiruma grinned and whispered, "If you don't shut up, sit still, and let me talk, I'll show you again how much I'm enjoying this."

Mamori was mortified. That better be a gun in his pocket. She could feel her face heating up with an intense blush so she covered her face with her hands.

Hiruma gave her a quick, tight squeeze before relaxing his arms slightly, but still not letting her go. "Mamori, look at me, please," he requested politely.

It took her a moment but Mamori slowly put her hands on her lap and turned to face him. Slowly, ever so slowly, she struggled to bring her eyes up to his. The moment her eyes finally met his, they were both captured. Neither could look away.

Hiruma had only ever called her Mamori in jest, when he was making fun of the way Sena and the others called her Mamori-nee or Mamo-nee. Usually, it was "fuckin' manager".

"Mamori," Hiruma whispered her name. He knew he would have to be the one to make the first move if he ever wanted his fantasy to come true. It was bad enough that her secret had come out like this, and he could only imagine how horribly embarrassed she must be feeling. He didn't want to scare her away by teasing anymore. Now that her love for him was confirmed to the world, he could express himself without fear of rejection.

Fear of rejection. It's the only reason anyone needs to never speak of their love and Hiruma had never intended to let her or anyone know of his. He had feared rejection. Mamori, perfect Mamori, and Hiruma, the devil Hiruma.

"Fucking manager," he laughed humorously. "I'm only going to say this once, so you better be fuckin' listening carefully. "

Mamori tensed as Hiruma took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

"You don't know," he began gently as one hand began stroking her back while the other remained resting on her hip. "How long I've been fantasing about this. About you."After a pregnant pause during which Mamori stopped breathing, he continued while maintaining eye contact, "About us."

Mamori's eyes widened.

Hiruma smiled ruefully. "I always thought you were too good for me," he rushed to say. "So I tried to distance myself by refusing to say your name. But I've always wondered what it would be like if you were mine. How would your lips taste? When I watch you eating, I'm jealous of your spoon because it gets to touch your lips." Hiruma blushed and admitted, "that was really corny, but it's true."

He waited for her reaction. She continued to look into his eyes, searching for a sign of deception. Mamori was so afraid to believe that this was all real, that it wasn't some elaborate, cruel hoax on his part. She was hoping that is wasn't a dream.

Before she could change her mind, Mamori leaned in and gently pressed her lips against his.

Hiruma felt his heart skip a beat and as Mamori started to pull away, his hands came up to tangle in her long hair as he crushed his lips against her. Running the tip of his tonge along the seam of her mouth, he convinced her to open up to his sweet assault of her senses. One hand gripped the back of her head to keep her from pulling away as he plundered her sweetness in a bid to conquer heaven. She tasted even better than he could have ever imagined in all his dirty fantasies. His other hand slid under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her back.

After a period that was clearly not long enough for Hiruma, Mamori managed to pull away after tenderly nibbling on his lower lip one last time.

"Hiruma," she sighed.

"Yoichi," he replied. "I want you to call me Yoichi."

"Yoichi," she smiled.

"I was going to make you scream it, too," he added. "But I'll let you off the hook here since you've already been embarrassed enough already."

Mamori blushed at the reminder as Hiruma loosened his arm and allowed her to stand on shaky legs.

"So," Hiruma started casually as he pulled a packet of gum out of his pocket, unwrapped a stick and popped it into his mouth. "We're officially dating now?" He asked, wanting her official affirmation.

"Yes, Y-Yoichi," stuttered Mamori, somewhat shyly.

Good, he thought, how he could redirect some of his resources. Once word spreads that they were officially a couple, no other man would be trying to approach her. His "Manager Protection" division would no longer be tasked with discouraging romantic interest in his Mamori, and they could now be reassigned. To the "Girlfriend Protection" division. He grinned.

Standing up, he offered Mamori his arm. "Let's go, fuckin' girlfriend!"

"Yoichi," Mamori resignedly sighed as she took his arm.

Leaning down, he tenderly kissed the top of her head and said one more time, "Fuckin' girlfriend."

The End.


End file.
